28
Ben
I tap my pencil against my notebook trying to focus, but I keep glancing at my phone waiting for the next text from Olivia. I can’t get her out of my head and I’ve been with her almost every free moment we both have.
My phone begins to ring and I quickly grab it, my heart sinking when I check the caller ID.
My mom has been calling more this week than any other since I’ve been back at Astor, but I’ve been letting it roll to voicemail. I pretend it's because I’ve been too busy spending time with Olivia. I already know mom’s head is going to explode when I tell her. She didn’t even like whenWillwas dating Olivia and that was just because she knew she was Lily’s friend. I can’t imagine what she’s going to say to me when she finds out.
I know these calls aren’t about me, though. They’re about Will. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have received my first missed call from Dan in the past two years. So I keep letting the voicemails roll in, trying to avoid the inevitable, I guess.
I get the notification that a few minutes later that my voicemail box is full. I decide I better at least delete a few and that I can’t keep avoiding my mom, so I listen to the most recent message.
“Ben, please call us back. I know the past few years have been a lot and I know we put a lot of pressure on you, but we are worried about Will. Wilson called and he said he’s thinking of leaving the team… I know he has his ups and downs, but it never conflicts withbasketball.”
She emphasizes the word as if it’s the most important thing in the world. I feel my jaw tense. She’s right to be worried. Even the year we both had mono we didn’t miss a single practice.
“It’s just so unusual for him. Even that girl didn’t have this effect.”I cringe at the way she refers to Lily.“We tried sending Marie to his apartment for a wellness check, but she said he wasn’t there. Your father is thinking of flying down.”I hear Dan say in the background,“Tell Ben if that’s necessary, he can kiss his tuition goodbye. I don’t have time for their dramatics.”
I hear my mom mumble an apology to my step father and I immediately regret not playing my role as the perfect big brother. I hear my mom shuffle to what I assume is a different room of the house and shut the door quietly.
“Ben, I know this is not easy for any of us, but especially you. We love you honey. Please, if you hear from your brother at all just let us know if he’s alright. Alright, talk soon, love you.”The beep at the end of the line signals the voicemail is over.
Just as I go to delete it and move on to the next one there’s a sharp rap at the door. My heart somersaults at the idea that it’s Olivia surprising me. I chuckle at myself as I rush to stand, fully aware of how quickly my mood changed just at the thought that it could be her. The perfect band aid to the headspace my mom just put me in. I throw a shirt on, walking down the hallway that leads from my room to the front door. I peek out the peephole only to see a mass slouched against the wall, and the image of what is clearly not Olivia, makes my stomach sink. The person’s silhouette is fuzzy until finally the body adjusts and I recognize who it is.
Will.
I immediately open the door. His clothes are wrinkled and his eyes look hollow as if he hasn’t slept or even been home in days. No wonder Marie hadn’t seen him. He’s slunk against the door jam, and it’s extremely clear he’s drunk and not in the way he usually is. Not the one that makes him a cocky asshole or giddy like a child— no, he’s drunk the way he was that first day after Lily died.
“Ben… I,” his voice is hoarse. I grab him by the collar and bring him in for a rough hug. Will embraces me as if he’s needed this hug for a while, a hug without any strings. I feel him let out a long shaky breath. Will sniffs, trying to regain his composure but failing as the tears continue to silently fall down his face.
“Let’s sit down, bud. I’ll make you some coffee.” I steer him toward the kitchen, his body which usually isn’t obviously smaller than mine seeming wimpy and weak in comparison. Every centimeter of him seems to sag, as if whatever is going on with him is weighing down his very aura. His hair is greasy and unbrushed, the stubble on his face hitting that middle ground between five o'clock shadow and a beard, making him look unkempt.
I flip the coffee maker on as Will sits at the kitchen table beside me, his head in his hands. My stomach turns. Is his breakup with Olivia really affecting him this much? Did I cause this? The feeling that whatever is going on with him is unequivocally my fault hits me with such force it’s hard for me to form words.
“I miss her Ben.” It comes so quietly I almost miss it in the shame spiral I’ve found myself in. Will's head is still in his hands and the words come out muffled.
The coffee finishes brewing and I fish some mugs from the upper shelf beside the fridge. I set one down in front of Will and pour one for myself before taking a seat at the table across fromhim. My mind is reeling with the fact that I have really crushed my brother.
“Have you tried reaching out to her?” I hear myself answer, focusing on my coffee cup, trying to school my shaky tone into one that is calm and unobtrusive. Will's face goes blank at that and I move closer placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
“This is so fucked, Ben,” he says, his jaw clenched as he shakes his head as if in disbelief, his eyes fixed at the black coffee sitting before him. “She’s never coming back.” He says it to himself, his voice hollow and breaking. My fingers clench and I feel my own eyes begin to water. He’s talking about Lily. “Have you talked to Mom?” His tone is empty now, cold and void of all emotion.
I clear my throat trying to shake the emotion from my voice. “She’s called… but no, I haven’t spoken to her.”
Will’s relationship with our mother is different from mine. Where I feel closeness with the woman who raised us, there is a distance between the two of them. After Will’s birth, our mother dealt with a depression so deep it seemed to hinder her from forming a relationship with my brother, and as I’ve grown older it’s apparent how this has affected him. She has seemed to guard herself by letting Dan take the charge in Will’s upbringing. Her constant anxiety about him at one point caused her to lean on me for incessant updates on everything, from his well being to his current emotional state.
“Can you tell her I’m fine if she calls again?” Will asks, eyes unwavering and empty as he grips the side of his mug.
“Will, you’re—” before I can finish Will cuts me off, his tone biting.
“Ben, I can’t talk to them right now. If dad comes here, if he talks about Lily, if I have to hear him call her ‘that girl’— I’ll fucking lose it.” He slams his fist against the table, causingcoffee to slosh out of his cup. His anger reverberating through the kitchen.
I think about how my mom spoke about Lily earlier, and I don’t necessarily blame either of my parents for the lack of understanding when it came to her. To them it was a summer fling, a two month romance that wasn’t going anywhere. What they seemed to not realize was that Will’s love of Lily could only be compared to his love of basketball. It was so all consuming, it verged on unhealthy, and when he started dating Olivia my parents wanted nothing to do with it. They couldn’t wrap their heads around how a few months with Lily could cause such deep seated emotions in him. My mom thought he had gone off the deep end, finding out he was dating his dead ex-girlfriend's best friend. Dan on the other hand thought it was funny. He said Will was obviously fine based on his winning streak on the team and the Rookie of the Year award he got the year after Lily’s death.
“I just don’t know what to do…” Will slouches into his chair and puts his face into his hands. I haven't seen my little brother so defeated in years. Typically he guards any real emotions behind this cultivated mask he puts on for the world. Right now, he seems like a shell of himself. “Ben, I can’t keep living like this. Numb, like I feel nothing. I’ve been hiding from what happened to Lily for so long and now that Olivia ended things…” He closes his eyes, rubbing his temples.
“Will—”
